To Kill a Neverbird
by BluePhyre
Summary: When Hook and Peter Pan commenced in their final battle, the cowardly, incompetent Captain was killed. The malicious, vengeful, very competent Hook, however, was just about to be born... starting with the kidnapping of one Wendy Moira Angela Darling.
1. Abduction

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan. Or _To Kill a Mockingbird_, which this title obviously borrows from.**

Hello! This is my break into work with the Peter Pan fandom, though I have read a lot. It comforts me to know that it's not only me that corrupt this children's story- well, story of, anyway- into a dark masterpiece. I've written before- look at my username and see for yourself. I don't really know the number anymore. It's in the 30's or 40's. Ehehe. I work mostly in Harry Potter now, though I have plenty of fics for other genres. I really hope you enjoy this fanfiction, though I'm not sure if I'll ever end it. I'll tell you a secret- I wrote most of this two years ago. I never saw it fit to put up, but after much editing and crying, I've decided to share it.

This would be based mostly off the movie with Jeremy Sumpter and Rachel Hurd-Wood, just to give you the universe, though I take the book into account. The idea also came from Return to Neverland, the stupid one about Jane. You'll probably spot that quickly... I hate Jane. Really. She shouldn't exist. This is my way to remedy the mistake that is Wendy's daughter ;)

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><p>Wendy knew she would never see Peter Pan again. She had to grow up, you see, just as all children- except one- did. And that one child, the one boy her hidden kiss would always belong to, was the destined eternal youth, the heart and soul of a magical world by the name of Neverland. Peter wouldn't have time for someone who was growing <em>old<em>.

But still, every night after she told one of her infamous stories of Peter Pan and his great battles with the evil pirate lord called Captain Hook, she would sit herself down by the window, rest her cheek still rosy from the excitement of the story on the cool, comforting sill, and stare at the second star to the right, hoping to find a sign. Hoping Peter Pan would return just as he had promised. But he never did, and she knew why. He had forgotten.

Mary Darling, who had developed a certain wariness of windows at night after her children's disappearance, had given up on persuading Wendy to sleep in her bed ages ago. The only comfort she had was that it was a different window, always illuminated by the watchful eyes that nightlights provided. Indeed, the single Darling daughter had been given her own room, and, although she relished the fact that Peter could be deterred by such a simple action, even went as far as brandishing her sword to defend his name, she thanked God for the privacy, something she never thought she'd desire until she found herself with five more brothers and a live-in aunt-and-cousin duo to boot. Even if she loved them all dearly, they were still rowdy, very rambunctious boys who all caused quite a fuss. And she was quickly becoming a woman who didn't quite like such fusses.

"Hello, Peter," Wendy said on one particularly dark, moonless night, as she always had and, she hoped, always would, as she sat down at the window. The second star to the right beckoned her with a cheery wink, and the girl giggled back.

But then, a cloud passed over the sky, and the twinkling light disappeared behind its shadow. Wendy sighed.

"That's right," she murmured, "I gave you up, didn't I?" There was no answer, of course, but that was the greatest answer of all. Of course, or else he would be there to answer you, to tell you otherwise. "How I wish I didn't," Wendy admitted, a shining tear coming to her eye. "But it's alright, as long as you remember me, Peter. I know you will, because you promised. Peter Pan doesn't break promises."

And with that, the girl heaved another sigh, this one weighed down with sadness and just a hint of sleepiness, rested her cheek on the cool wood of the windowsill, and let her sky blue eyes slip closed. She dreamt of Neverland. Mrs. Darling slipped into the room and hurriedly shut the window, making sure to secure the lock firmly into place. No one was going to take her daughter again. At least, that's what she thought.

Unknown to her, a man her daughter had once feared was not so far away in a watery, crocodile-related death, but instead sailing closer in a ship that had learned to fly. And he was coming to kidnap Wendy.

It was around midnight that a group of seabirds, crowing as if to forewarn all those below of a terror's approach, began to flock around the Darling residence. And then, swiftly, quietly, _evilly_, they came.

From a large, powerful ship, its flag bearing the dreaded telltale skull and crossbones, pirates of every shape and size emerged, scurrying down ropes. Silently, stealthily, they dropped to the roof, their crooked, rotting teeth bared in wicked smiles that sung nightmarish melodies of every bloodthirsty sin they had ever committed.

Amongst them was the man of nightmares himself, Captain James Hook. With a hook in place of his right hand and a thirst for revenge, he was the most feared pirate of all bedtime stories, the arch nemesis of Peter Pan. As he passed, the pirates drew their swords silently, ready for his orders to pillage the house of all importance. But tonight, he had only one treasure to steal: Peter Pan's.

With baited breath and light footsteps he inched over to a window he knew to reveal his prize. And then, he simply slipped his hook through the crack between the panes, lifting the lock Mrs. Darling had always used after her children's disappearance, and opened the window.

The window was thrown open, and with a gasp, Wendy's blue eyes snapped open. She jumped to stare out to the sky, a smile on her face. Had it been him?

"P-Peter?" she cried, finding herself leaning over the sill in anxiety. Someone had caused that racket, and who else would be at her window on the second story? "Peter," Wendy said again, her voice loud and sure, "Peter, are you there? Peter! It's me, Wendy!"

"Wendy?" a voice replied in return, and the girl's lips burst into a large, wild grin. Peter had returned for her! He had remembered! But why, when his voice called out to her, would he not show himself to her? "Wendy, I'm here for you. Come with me, to Never Neverland, forever."

Wendy's eyes grew wide, but soon she found herself too happy to argue to such a demand; a demand that had, the one time it had been uttered before, had gotten herself, the boy she had come to love, her brothers, and her heart in a great deal of trouble. Trouble she was still suffering for. One bare foot found the wood of the windowsill, then the other. She wiggled her toes and braced a hand on either side of the window frame, slowly angling her body towards the cold, yielding air in search for the eternal youth titled Peter Pan.

"Peter!" she cried to the sky, a smile spreading wide on her face. "Oh, Peter, you remembered!" To her cry, the wind's whistle was her only reply, and for a moment, the Darling girl's smile faded just a tiny bit. Then, a cocky crow reached her ears and deliciously similar laughter followed, and Wendy strained her neck to find the source. "Peter, where are you! I want to go to Neverland again!"

Over in the next room, both the Darling parents woke with a start to Wendy's joyous cries. Mrs. Darling was the first to spring up, however, and throw open the window. There, she looked over to see her daughter leaning dangerously over the sill, her gaze to the sky and her lips turned up into a delighted, childish smile. Mr. Darling was up only seconds later, sprinting to Wendy's room.

Mrs. Darling watched as a shadow, too tall and burly to be that of the boy who personified eternal youth, crept closer to Wendy. He lifted an arm, and the gleam of a metal hook caught the mother's eye.

"Wendy, look out!" she had screamed to her daughter, but it was too late. As Wendy turned around, her bright blue eyes widened at the sight of the pirate she had believed to be dead behind her, and she dashed towards the tall vase that had held John's sword from so long ago.

Hook only laughed, rolling his eyes at her attempt towards self-defense. "Your swordplay is a bit rusty, I presume," he muttered, drawing his own blade and holding it at an arm's length. "Silly girl, you have changed." His eyes raked over her matured form greedily, and a cruel smile came to Captain Hook's lips. "How charming. Pan will be delighted."

"Be quiet! It's not true!" Wendy screamed, swinging her sword recklessly. Hook caught the single crystalline tear she shed and chuckled mirthlessly once more. "What's so funny, Hook! Does my misery make you feel that much better, you filthy buccaneer!"

"Aye, and how miserable you've been, lass. I'd be lying if I said it was unshared, though, dear," Hook murmured softly, watching as Wendy sighed, her eyes darting to the window, where they widened. There, perched on the edge of her windowsill, was a dark shadow. For a moment, Wendy could have sworn it was Peter Pan, readying himself to save her sorry arse. But then, the twinkle of familiar blue eyes she herself possessed let her heart fall in disappointment and horror. There was her mother, perched precariously on the sill of a window two stories above the ground, a gun poised elegantly in her hand as she focused on her mark: the pirate's turned back.

Wendy whimpered, her eyes darting back to Hook, who believed that her fear was caused by his presence and was thus smirking victoriously. But then, in a desperate attempt to save her mother, who hadn't had a lick of adventure in her life, the trouble, Wendy lifted her sword as high and straight as she could, snapped her eyes shut, and charged.

Her ears weren't met with a cry of death, but rather a ring of metal colliding with metal, and as she opened her eyes in fear a stabbing pain erupted in her side, and Wendy was thrown to the floor. A gunshot echoed throughout the air, and three cries; one of delight, definitely from Hook, another of shock, which had forced its way past Mr. Darling's lips as he nearly missed the bullet as he charged into the room, also armed, and the last one was of horror as Mrs. Darling watched the crimson liquid from her daughter's side blossom into a rosy stain, slowly spreading across her cotton-draped hip.

"Wendy!" Mrs. Darling cried in terror as she watched her daughter bounce to her feet, her sword still held upward towards the pirate's neck.

"I'm fine," she barked to her mother, her eyes steely. "Get down from the window or you'll fall." Mrs. Darling did just so, hopping down gently to the pads of her feet, crouching defensively and pondering whether rushing to her daughter's side would make anything remotely better. When Wendy's eyes, steely with threats and warnings to stay away from both her and the pirate she was feuding with reached her, however, she whimpered silently, said a small prayer, and succumbed to watching frightfully.

Captain Hook muttered something about bothersome parents and inched towards Wendy slowly, his sword, dripping with her blood, poised. Mr. Darling, however, pointed his gun and pulled the trigger, shooting a warning shot straight through the feather in Hook's hat. Despite her agony, Wendy, smirked inwardly to herself; who had known her father would be a good shot?

"Kill her and you'll pay," he bellowed, feeling as scared as he ever would be in his life. But he would not let his only daughter get hurt. No, not when they had been so close to losing her to that Peter Pan, who, he admitted, probably had something to do with the pirate captain standing before him tonight.

But honestly, dear Wendy's stories so often involved pirates that he couldn't say he was terribly shocked.

Wendy sniveled and turned her sword on her father instead, her eyes becoming wild and dangerous. Mr. Darling gasped, and Wendy sighed mentally; she couldn't let her family be involved with this. "Stay out of this, George," she sneered, spitting at his feet for an extra effect.

"I don't plan to kill her," Hook muttered snidely, ignoring the display that had gone on before him, and grabbed her by the neck. "Not yet. That's not a very good policy for ransom, now is it? What would I tell Pan? 'Surrender now and I'll give you dear Wendy's cold, rotting corpse? I think not. No, no… That wouldn't work at all."

And with that, the pirate sprung to the window, pushing Mrs. Darling out before him, who shrieked in terror, waiting to fall to her death. Instead, Wendy reached down, her face beginning to turn red as she found she couldn't breathe in Hook's grip, and, in the last moment she could have used to escape, pushed her mother back to safety in her father's arms.

After he had put his wife down, Mr. Darling found himself at the window where just seconds ago Wendy had been, where Mrs. Darling had opened fire on a pirate captain, where now blood was dripping down onto the roof, painting the shingles a deep, brownish red, the old rusty sword that Wendy had wielded, an icon from the memories of Neverland, in his hand. And yet, he found, he could do nothing to protect one of the most important women in his life.

"Bring her down!" the hook-handed pirate hollered, and the ship wheeled into view, ropes dripping from its sides like icicles. Mr. Darling gasped, his whole body going rigid as he fell to the floor, unconscious from the overwhelming shock. All Mrs. Darling could do was watch and scream helplessly as Wendy was tossed from pirate to pirate, each of them taking their sweet time to grasp those parts individual to the fairer sex, until she collided with the deck of the boat, her eyes fluttering shut.

And, as abruptly as they had appeared, the scoundrels scurried back to their ship with Captain Hook at the wheel, their laughter booming across the night sky. Then they were gone, and the Darlings were alone, the only proof that the struggle had ever happened being the blood on the sill and the absence of their only daughter.

And Wendy, who laid on the deck of the boat in exactly the spot where she had landed, somehow unable to move, cursed her luck as she glared at the only thing her eyes picked up: blood and wood. 'Perfect,' she thought, 'I can't even see where they're taking me.' But Wendy didn't need her eyes to know where they were headed. She was finally returning to Neverland.

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><p>Can you tell both Hook and Mr. Darling were written specifically for Jason Isaacs? I might have a bit too much Lucius in there... Oh well! I love everything that man does. But then again, most people do. 'Cause he's boss, man. Boss.<p>

Review, please? That's the only way to encourage me to put more out. The next part is rather... Well, you can tell I wrote it when I was fifteen. Sorry. But boost my confidence a little and give me some imput! You'll get cookies- I swear. Perhaps rock cakes instead... Hmm...


	2. Return to Neverland

**Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan_._**

Wull, here's the second chapter! I hope it didn't take too long for you, my two reviewers. I love you all the same. Hopefully I will eventually get more. But whatever. I was away at band camp, to explain the delay. And I didn't know how the end the chapter either... And you can tell I wrote it two years ago. Ehe. But stick with me! This fic will take a rather dark turn. I hope you enjoy :3

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><p>The second to the right, and straight on till morning.<p>

That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to Neverland. Of course, that had been with the eternal youth himself, and somehow Wendy was beginning to doubt that the pirate ship could ever make its way back to Neverland without Peter himself commandeering it.

When she had woken up, Wendy had found herself tied to a mast that held up one of the bigger sails, both her hands and feet also bound, as the gigantic boat sailed across fluffy pink clouds. If she hadn't been in mortal danger - or tied to a giant wooden pole that was giving her splinters, for that matter - the trip would have been amazing. But somehow the sight of Captain Hook shouting orders to gruesomely unclean men with only half their teeth still in place and bloodied swords strapped around their waists made the scene that much less magical.

The constant pain in Wendy's side might have contributed to her grumpiness as well. Ever since Hook had wounded her, it had been nearly impossible to breathe without tearing up, and, as the ropes pressed into her side, she found herself wishing that she had just been more compliant with the wicked pirate; sure, that would mean giving up, but honestly, she was afraid of getting an infection while on the filthy pirate ship. Gangrene wasn't a welcomed visitor, and neither were the tears she unwillingly found coursing down her cheeks with the liveliness of a babbling brook.

Hook had made it known that, she, too, was utterly unmissed upon his boat, even as Red-Handed Jill. Especially as Red-Handed Jill. Wendy would never lie, and she couldn't say this knowledge particularly hurt her feelings. Of course, it was always fun to annoy Hook, so she took the little bitterness he had caused out on him tenfold. It seemed that even a girl bound and gagged could manage to annoy the irritable pirate captain.

Almost as soon as Wendy's mind had drifted back to the deliciously peeved face that the pirate captain had cast at her every time she had pestered him, the ship shuddered and a loud splash followed. Wendy gasped as a cold wetness embraced her, and a nose full of salt water followed. Her wound stung as the waves beat against it, quickly engulfing her completely. With another gasp, Wendy knew from the urgency in her lungs that she was drowning.

She struggled and kicked aimlessly, trying to stick her nose above the water that lingered just over her head. Finally, as the world seemed to be getting darker, Wendy's foot collided with something hard that just happened to be Captain Hook's legs.

"Stupid wench!" he hissed, whirling to slap his captive. When he was met with nothing but water, Hook groaned and slapped his forehead with his only hand in disbelief of his own foolishness. "Oh," he muttered, shoving his hook through the rope that held Wendy under the waters and oh-so graciously flung the girl to the higher deck.

Wendy groaned as she felt herself tumbling along the wooden floor, grunting as she collided with the side railing and blood flew from her mouth in a shower that, if spit, would have put Peter to shame in one of his better expectorating matches. Somehow, as she tumbled Wendy had run into something sharp and, although her hands were bleeding from new gashes, they were free.

She smirked despite herself and resisted from crowing and settled with a very Peter Pan-like, "Oh, the cleverness of me!" before nimbly untying the rope from around her feet. And then Wendy crowed.

"Why, look," Hook's voice wafted to her waterlogged ears, taunting the freedom she had so confidently rejoiced, "Wendy had freed herself from a rope. The cleverness of her!"

She hissed under her breath and hopped to her feet, slinking back into a fighting stance just in case any of the deck hands wanted a go at her. Instead of flying fists, Wendy was met with a horrid round of laughter; Hook's chuckles were the loudest.

"Pan will be overjoyed to find you with still such a spirit," he chided, his hook twitching to his upper lip, twirling his thin, coal back moustache into intricate, elaborate, even elegant shapes that one thought not quite possible with such limited facial hair. "Of course, he would be lucky to find you alive as well, dearest."

Wendy only scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed with the pirate captain's hints to her impending ultimate doom. "What do you want with me," she demanded, spitting out a very cross, "you old codfish!"

"I have the perfect plan," the Captain boasted, ignoring the girl's fishy taunts. "With you as bait," he boomed, "we will lure Peter Pan to his DOOM!" With a sinister cackle, be beckoned for his men to grab Wendy. She shrieked as they all drew closer, swords bared.

"How uninspired," Wendy murmured with a sigh. "As a villain, you disappoint me. Honestly, I was expecting something more… evil, cunning, _smart_. Take your pick." Hook sighed and rolled her eyes; he shouldn't tolerate such insults from a wench like her. With a blunt order to attack, his pirate minions sprung upon the girl, and she shrieked. "Get away!" Wendy demanded. When no one heeded her warning, she let her instincts take wind, and the closest pirate was kicked in the groin. He fell back with a moan, and Wendy, with a crack, thrust her fist into another man's nose. Before she could finish a third, a rope was tied around her wrists, and another around her ankles. With a few shoves from the surrounding scallywags, she fell to the ground helpless, and Hook approached to drag her by a tight grip he had on her curls.

"Summon the sea monster!" he screeched, and Smee answered with a "Yes sir, Captain!" before scurrying off to grab a bucket of fish bones and whatnot, singing on his way.

"Oh, yo ho ho!" he sang. "Another plan to capture Peter Pan! Captain Hook's a brilliant man!" Said pirate smiled at this, and Smee skipped his way over to the side of the boat, sloshing the goopy garbage onto a dozen pirates as he went. "Who else could think of the perfect plan and bumble and fumble it every time?"

"Smee!" Captain Hook shouted, just as his first mate dumped the garbage overboard. It sank down slowly, surely, until a creature deep below smelled the fishy remains, grinning hungrily.

Wendy giggled despite herself, but stopped as Hook threw her to the lower deck. "Be careful!" she reprimanded him, but her words fell of def ears as she was tied to the plank by her feet and thrust over the water, hanging upside down.

Wendy gasped as her nightgown - the same as she had worn on her first and last adventure in Neverland - drooped to cover her face and fumbled to hold it up to at least her knees. As she cast an angry glare over to the pirate crew, she noticed half of them were beet red.

"Well, don't stand there like bumbling idiots!" she demanded. " You're pirates, for God's sake! Tie my gown up, will you? If I'm going to die via sea monster, I could at least do it with some dignity!"

All eyes landed on Captain Hook next, who was still a light shade of pink, and he waved them all off. "You heard the woman, tie up her gown! It won't make any difference as the monster swallows her whole!"

Once that deed was done, Wendy was a little less uncomfortable as she hang upside down, despite how heavy her head suddenly felt. And then the feeling of safety - which she admittedly thought to be a sign of insanity, given she was hanging over the ocean, both hands and feet tied, about to be eaten alive by some mysterious sea creature with a bunch of pirates glaring at her helpless, dangling form - left her body as the water below started bubbling.

"Cry for your dearest Peter!" Hook commanded. "Call to him, Wendy!"

"No," Wendy yelled back, her eyes still trained on the churning waters below, "I'll never succumb to your plan! This sea monster could eat me for all I care!" Just as she spoke, a giant octopus sprang from the deep, wrapped one of its tentacles around her waist, and pulled, snapping the rope as if it were a twig.

And then, as simple as that, Wendy changed her mind.

"PETER PAN!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs. "SAVE ME RIGHT NOW!" The pirates sent deadpanned stares her way, and she glared back. "What? Am I not allowed to change my mind?"

Wendy harrumphed when there was naught a reply, stuck her nose up, and snapped her eyes shut. When she opened them again, there was Peter Pan, sitting cross legged in front of her as if nothing was out of place.

"Hullo, Wendy!" he exclaimed happily, his usual smirk growing twice as wide. "Long time no see!" The shining light that was Tinkerbell hovered beside him, and if Wendy squinted enough, she could see a smirk on the pixie's face.

"Yeah, yeah," she hissed, "skip the pleasantries, Pan! Would you mind saving me from this giant piece of calamari now?"

Peter, instead of laughing at his friend's witty remark, decided to frown. "Save you?" he asked, his brow wrinkling. "What a mother you are! Mothers never need saving. They take care of their kids, not the other way around!"

"Well, I'm just as much of a mother as you are a father!" Wendy yelled, crossing her arms as best as she could, given her big, slimy constriction that was an octopus tentacle. "If I'm such a burden, though, go ahead and let this _thing_ eat me. Don't come crying to me!"

"Yeah? Well…" Peter stopped his argument as he glanced towards the pirate ship. Instead, he pushed on the tentacle holding Wendy hard enough to send her flying away, then grabbed Tinkerbell and flew the opposite way. A cannonball ripped through the air where he had been only seconds ago, and both children glared accusingly at the captain.

"Do you mind?" they shouted together. Hook sighed in defeat and collapsed to the floor, waiting for the two to finish. Taking that as a sign to commence again, Peter Pan flew to Wendy's side.

"Look," he said, "I'm sorry, okay? You're tied up and unarmed. Of course I'll save you, so just wait here."

Wendy nodded, smiling softly, but still felt the need to call out to him as he flew towards Captain Hook, "Does it look like I'm going anywhere soon?"

Peter laughed in retaliation as he shot towards Hook, dagger out and at the ready. The pirate captain replied with a curt twitch of his swords, in which he pointed it to the rapidly approaching boy and yelled quite loudly, "Fire!"

The sky was speckled with cannonballs, and Wendy, while being shaken thoroughly by the giant octopus and thus fighting the urge to vomit, gasped in horror. The eternal youth, however, dodged them all with one hand poised to observe the dirt that had been trapped under his nails.

"Is that all, Hook?" he teased, his face twisting into a smug smirk of mischievousness. Before the pirate could reply, Peter had sprung onto the deck, his blade thrust towards Hook. Metal collided, and the duel began.

As Wendy watched, her face falling as Hook pushed Peter back, then rising to a proud smirk as he regained the upper hand - no pun intended - on Captain James Hook, she didn't notice a certain fairy hovering around her anxiously, her sparkling pixie dust coating the Darling girl's skin in a thin gold sheen.

"Pixie dust!" Wendy cried when she noticed, and Hook's dark, angry eyes were on her for a mere second. In that particular moment, Peter was able to throw his enemy into the water with one powerful, two-footed, flying kick to the gut and jump to his friend's side.

"Come on, Wendy!" he exclaimed, grabbing her wrist and yanking her from her octopus confines in one fluid motion. Wendy found herself catapulted high into the sky, completely overjoyed and smiling insanely, with Peter Pan by her side almost instantly, the same silly grin plastered onto his face.

"It's good to be back," she found herself whispering, quite to the delight of the boy beside her, despite the cannonballs meant for them falling like raindrops and the vengeful pirates below. No, she saw only the deep emerald of Peter Pan's eyes, felt only his hand slowly inching from her wrist into hers, knew only that they were there together. And the mischievous twinkling in the green irises she was so lost in told her he felt exactly the same.

Mustering up a tiniest bit of extra courage he had put away for safe keeping, Peter drawled, so nonchalantly, so opposite of how fast his heart was pounding, how red his face felt, how sweaty he feared the palms of his hands were becoming, that he surprised himself, "Hey, Wendy," his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed together in an arrogant smirk that demanded trouble, "because I was so brave and clever in saving your life," he paused again, checking her reaction, "wouldn't it be most fitting if I was rewarded?"

"How so?" Wendy asked, oblivious to what he would demand next.

At this, Peter laughed despite himself, knowing the girl before him was absolutely clueless. "A thimble." Just as he expected, a blush blossomed into view on Wendy's cheeks, and he chuckled once more; he liked Wendy when she turned red. Then, to make his point, Peter Pan puckered his lips and closed his eyes to wait.

Wendy paused, staring at Peter before her in surprise. As she stared, he grew impatient and one bright green eye crept open to make sure she hadn't just disappeared into nothingness, like he quite often dreamt she had. When he found her to be right where she had been before, still staring red-faced at him, he stopped to frown at her.

"Aren't you gonna thimble me?" Peter asked, pouting like any twelve-year-old boy could. When Wendy flushed a deeper red and failed to respond otherwise, he placed one nimble finger upon his lips, puckering them once more, and murmured to the best of his ability, "_Right_ here."

"Peter!" Wendy groaned, her voice suddenly reprimanding as she attempted to return her blazing face back to a color that reminded her less of a lobster and more of a human being. Peter jumped back, his face shocked. Last time she had argued with _Hook_ as he prepared to kill Peter to give him a thimble, and now when it was so much less troublesome? Not a thing! Why was she angry at such a simple request?

He moaned. "You _did _say it belonged to me," was his argument, and Wendy's blush came back for an encore.

"B-but," she stuttered, warring between embarrassment, anger, and that fuzzy feeling she dared to call affection, "you can't just _demand_ a ki…" Peter blinked. "Thimble."

At first, there was an awkward silence, and, if she looked past the confusion in Peter's eyes, Wendy could have sworn he knew more than he was letting on. But then, as insouciantly as he had demanded a thimble, Peter shrugged. He had meant to seem unwounded, but, just as Wendy had seen anxiousness in his request, she found a sting of pain from her rejection. Before she could apologize- or worse, give in, Wendy assessed- he was shooting through air and clouds alike towards the little island down so far below, his hand secure around Wendy's. And somehow, she was being pulled along like a carefree feather.

"That was the first time Hook appeared since he was swallowed by that crocodile," Peter said as they flew through the air. "I thought he was dead, you know, for good. But we chose another hideout, anyway. We thought maybe someone else would try to kill us, but I guess Hook was it. It was actually really boring without him around. Well, I'll show you were it is, but you better remember the first time, 'cause I won't tell you again!"

Wendy noticed when Peter winked, and she smiled back, nodding enthusiastically. "I won't forget, Peter, I promise."

The boy smiled yanked on her arm, and away they went, as if nothing had changed. But so much had. So much…

Flying was a bliss that Wendy had never expected to experience ever again, and she had always thought of that as one of her lesser losses. But as she flew through the air, Peter's hand clasped gently yet firmly around hers, guiding her to a new place with a great adventure in tow, she knew that to be different. Flying was just as much unreal as Peter himself, just as exciting. Yes, she had definitely missed this.

"There it is!" the eternal youth cried, and his finger poised crookedly to a thicket of trees so much like the forest around them, so much like the old hideout that Wendy squinted for a moment to see if her hole was still there. But alas, it wasn't, and she soon found herself urged by Peter to use the oldest Lost Boy's instead; at least until he found her hole.

The squeeze was tight at first, and Wendy winced as she squirmed down the path, afraid to become forever stuck in the cavity until she died. But then, it opened up to a greater width, and away she went, sliding down gaily and giggling until it was no longer possible. That was just how long the ride was. But eventually, a light became visible, and then Wendy was in a bright room, falling from the ceiling.

She forgot to scream or fly or even flap her arms like the wings of the Never bird, but she didn't collide painfully with the ground. Instead, she found herself comfortable in the arms of Peter, smiling like a mad woman and still trying to get the last of her giggles out.

"Careful there," Peter warned, placing Wendy on her feet. "I don't wanna have to deal with you whining about a bruise or something all day, even though I know you wouldn't." She nodded silently, too absorbed in observing the area to really listen to the boy's warnings.

The first thing she noticed was that is was rather messy, actually. There were the most random of things scattered about the large area, which, like the first hideout, was a beautiful, woodsy capturing of the underside of a tree. There was this strange little flute here, a tiny little bow there, little carved, wooden things everywhere.

Wendy wandered to one of the only areas even remotely tidy, which was a small shelf just by Peter's chair, and examined its contents. They were all wooden carvings, and as she picked them up one by one the boy's eyes widened, his face turning just a bit redder as she drew closer to the end. The first carving was of Peter himself, then of six little boys that must have been the Lost Boys, all lumped together into one carving. Then one was of five boys, and then the Never bird on her nest. A life size Tinkerbell came next, and a then a trio: one girl, and a boy on each hand. Wendy recognized them to be her and her siblings. Then there was one of her on her own, then of her and Peter dancing, of her and Peter flying, of her and Peter laughing, sitting, sword fighting, all the things they had once done. And finally came the last one, depicting vividly what had been their first kiss.

"Why, Peter," she gasped, fingering the last carving. It was much more intimate than she had remembered- looking back on the moment, she realized that, having pinned him to the floor of the boat, their positioning was very… compromised. With a more mature mind, Wendy couldn't help but blush and smile in that awkward way girls do while talking about romance. It's wasn't like she hadn't thought about… such things… often. All of those thoughts and dreams were Peter, too. Everything was Peter. But this… did he think about it, too? No, he wasn't old enough…

The boy waited for something embarrassing, something that would definitely reveal just how much he had grown up, even if it hadn't shown. But that never came. "These are brilliant! But who are the boys?"

"The new Lost Boys," Peter said proudly. He couldn't help the compliment to his ego; it seemed to forever be growing bigger, and Wendy's praise wasn't helping all that much. "There will always be boys stupid enough to fall from their prams, after all."

"Of course," Wendy agreed. It was true; boys were rather dull. "There are five?"

Peter nodded and made his way to her side, prying the carving from her fingers and placing it back down on the shelf. "You'll meet them later. Let's go exploring now!"

"Alright," Wendy said, and turned to smile at the boy before her. However, their faces came to close, their noses nearly brushing, and both erupted into a furious blush.

As if oblivious to the uncomfortable blush played across Wendy's cheeks, Peter smirked. "Neverland has changed, Wendy-lady," he explained offhandedly. "You're gonna be surprised by everything different here. We'll visit the mermaids and the fairies and the Indians!"

"It sounds lovely," Wendy murmured, smiling as, their faces still close, her nose brushed against Peter's. He didn't pull away. "Show me Neverland, Peter Pan."

The boy laughed heartily, drawing away to grasp her hand and pull her towards the tree's exit. Wendy giggled as well, running along beside him. As soon as they reached the surface, Peter pulled the Darling girl into the air, and away they went, shooting into the sky like joyous birds, swirling and looping when they became bored with only ascent.

Soon, they hovered over the island, and Peter stared over to Wendy. He had long ago let go of her hand, but she was still there beside him, her smile as big as he could remember it. Bigger than most of the times he silently visited the Darling house, he reminded himself, and his own arrogant smirk faded a bit. He had put her through so much… But she had wanted to grow up, and Peter would always let her do what she pleased… Even if it hurt him.

The youth blinked, shaking the thoughts from his mind. Self-sacrifice, sadness, growing up, those were things no child should even think about. Not when they would never become older, not when they were immortal and eternally young. No, they were not things that should exist in Peter Pan's mind.

And yet, they did. All for Wendy… Peter only thought such things for Wendy. And that scared him. She was… making him grow up.

Wendy, smiling flawlessly, realized that Peter had said nothing in oh-so long, something not at all like himself, and looked to where the boy had been the last time she had checked. But he was slowly drifting down below her, a very prominent frown on his face, complete with a worry line.

The Darling girl shook her head; her eyes must had been playing tricks on her. Peter Pan did _not_ have worry lines. He didn't worry. No… he never _had_ to worry. He was Peter Pan.

"Peter?" Wendy called out to him, hoping he was not at all as sad as he made it seem. With a jolt, his green eyes shot up to appraise the fading smile on her own face, and he sent her a smirk that fit his face so much better than a grimace.

"I was thinking," he said, knowing very well what Wendy was concerned about. "Who will we visit first? It's a hard decision, you know. _Everyone_ in Neverland is interesting, but none as interesting as me."

"Of course," Wendy agreed, laughing off her worry easily. She didn't have to fret over Peter. He was strong and childish and so much full of joy that no one would ever have to worry about him. He wasn't the type of person to concern over.

Both children paused for a moment, exchanging slightly fake smiles, and then, Peter flew up to Wendy's altitude and grasped her hand in his once more, tugging on her arm slightly. "Let's go!" he cried, and then began to dive down to the earth like a cannonball shot through the air.

Wendy let out a scream, but not of fear. No, the grin on her face was never wiped off, for she knew she could always trust Peter with her life. The tops of the trees came close, and just in time, he pulled them both away from the green below, smirking and laughing at his own cleverness. Wendy giggled along with him, tightening her hold on his hand.

They were speeding towards a clearing in the woods, where Wendy knew the fairies to be. She remembered how their king and queen had danced, the beginning of her downfall in Neverland her first time here. Even though she felt utterly content with Peter's hand around hers, the Darling girl sighed sadly at the memory, earning a glace from Peter. She didn't realize his eyes were on her and that they stayed there for quite some time, inspecting her features. Peter Pan didn't need to use his eyes to navigate around Neverland; he knew it like the back of his hand. And so, he let himself indulge in little glances Wendy's way.

She didn't look that different. Her brown hair, still wavy and messy from flight, was a bit longer, if anything, and her face was the tiniest bit thinner than he remembered, but that could have been constituted to a smaller diet. Wendy was taller, too, a little bit taller than Peter. He didn't like that aspect, but Peter certainly wasn't willing to risk growing up to just gain a little height on the girl. No, even though he didn't like it, Peter could stand her height. Her hips had grown wider, though, too, and her chest… A blush crossed the boy's cheeks. Was there even a _word_ to describe that? Little girls didn't look like that.

It was the wisdom in her smile, the slight wrinkle in her forehead that he had most likely caused by depressing her with his absence, the fact that her voice was a bit more mature and matched her widening vocabulary. It was every little thing that constituted to her growth that made Peter squirm; it was everything together that he couldn't stand.

And, somehow, he blamed himself for letting her go. It was too mature for his likes, but a new feeling blossomed in his stomach when he observed her changes. Was it… guilt? That had developed after he had watched Wendy wallow in her loneliness for so long, after he sat on the sidelines as a spectator even though she wanted him to play a bigger role in her life. It made itself known when he realized she wanted him to grow older with her, that he couldn't give her what she wanted only because he was afraid. Yes, that was guilt. It came shortly after that emotion called love…

And it was with that thought that Peter Pan stopped his flight in midair. Wendy yelped in surprise as her hand, still clinging tightly to Peter's, resisted her full-throttle flight, causing her to rocket back to him in an awkward jerk. A cross frown danced on her lips, and Peter smiled, almost apologetic in appearance.

"Peter," she cried, her voice scolding, "what was that for? What is it?" Wendy received no answer but a playful smirk, though, and with a sigh, she resigned to the fact that she would probably never know. No one could out-stubborn Peter Pan. That was one of his most annoyingly endearing traits, she mused silently.

They both stayed there for a time in silence, floating in the air and staring at each other motionlessly, unwilling to break their gazes. Wendy refused to let her dismissal show in her cross frown, while Peter couldn't be brought down by her mild anger. No, he didn't mind at all. That look was rather becoming on Wendy, actually. Perhaps he enjoyed it because, despite all the changes she had gone through, it was still the same. It was familiar. Wendy had worn that look often in his presence. It was _very_ becoming, no matter why, though.

Becoming enough that Peter Pan decided to follow through with his plans. With a yank of his hand, he pulled Wendy against him and, grabbing her chin forcefully in his fingers, he jammed his lips onto hers in a very forceful thimble.

When they pulled away, Wendy reminded Peter very much of the wild tomatoes he sometimes pretended to eat with the Lost Boys, and the boy's smirk was larger than ever, for it seemed to glow with a certain satisfaction he had never truly achieved before.

"Just getting my reward for bravery," he said dismissively, pulling Wendy back into flight before she had managed to stutter out a reply. "Now, to the fairies we go!"

* * *

><p>Well? I want to hear what you thought. I usually write everything beforehand, but I haven't done that this time around. If there's anything you want to suggest, I might be able to work it into the story line. Thank you for reading! See you next chapter.<p> 


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